Strong and Sexy (Sky High Air #2)(18)

She wished it was Brody who’d wanted the nightcap with her.

Stupid.

She’d taken the job at Sky High out of desperation. She’d needed money, and more than that, she’d needed security, both of which had been in short supply most of her life. So she’d bullshitted her way into the job, thinking how hard could it be to make flight reservations and keep the clients happy?

Turned out to be a lot more complicated than that, and a lot harder. The guys—Noah the sexy intellectual, Shayne the carefree playboy, and Brody the wild pilot rebel—had seen through her B.S. immediately, of course, each of them being just as street-smart as she, but still they’d hired her.

They’d taken a real chance on her.

But it turned out that she had a real knack for the organization required, for making things happen. For making people happy.

Who’d have thought?

She’d saved the guys’ collective ass in their first year, and they’d saved her too, without even knowing it. They’d given her that sense of security she’d craved, and a place where she’d been accepted, no matter what. She’d love them for that alone, but it went deeper. They trusted her, and in return, she’d been able to learn to trust again as well.

And in a shockingly short amount of time, Sky High Air had become home, and the guys her brothers.

But nothing about Brody felt as comfortable as a sibling or a kid. Nope, the man made her sweat, pure and simple.

She hated to sweat.

The problem was her own, of course. Yes, she was damn good at what she did, and yes, she’d made herself completely indispensable. But in doing so she’d also made herself a part of the family.

As a result, there was no way in hell that Brody would touch her now, not the way she dreamed of him touching her. It made her ache, but if she had to choose between having him or having the job, the job would win.

Every time.

Cold consolation when she excused herself from her date and walked toward the front of the bar just as Brody was coming in, with a tall, gorgeous brunette.

So tall. So gorgeous.

Damn.

He’d taken her advice. He’d started to “live it.” Terrific time for him to listen to her.

He didn’t see her, he was too busy laughing with Barbie Doll—as he never did with her.

All about the job, she reminded herself. Not the man. Which was really just more cold consolation…





Chapter 7




D istance, Shayne reminded himself on the drive to Dani’s. The trick was to remain a little distant. Shouldn’t be a problem, he was a master of distant, and any who knew him would be able to swear to that in a court of law.

But no more than six minutes after Dani had hung up on him, he pulled up to her apartment building.

For the second time.

He had no idea what to expect, or what he thought he could do, and twice on the way over he’d nearly turned around, and would have, except for one thing.

She’d been genuinely terrified.

As he parked, she came out from beneath the awning on the front porch and into the rain, moving like a shimmering wet dream. Her hair was down, still wet, clinging past her shoulders. Out of her black dress now, she wore only an extremely wet T-shirt and boxer shorts, no longer looking awkward and out of her league, but like a hot, drenched, curvy woman who deserved the trophy at a wet T-shirt contest. Holy shit.

Yeah, that was some great distance he was maintaining.

She opened the passenger door of the Porsche before he’d pulled the parking brake, and certainly before he could get out of the car to open her door for her.

“Sorry,” she gasped, shoving back the streaming wet strands of her hair. It fell in tangled, wet waves past her shoulders, as wild as her eyes.

He tore his own off her body. “For?”

She lifted her hands helplessly. “For making your car all wet for the second time tonight. For calling you in the first place. For kissing you. I don’t know, pick one.”

Reaching into the back seat, he handed her the coat she’d left at the party. “Yours?”

“Yes.” She shrugged into it and hugged herself tight.

“There’s no need to apologize for any of this.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Okay.” She licked her lips, an entirely innocent and uncalculated gesture, but it still shot a bolt of heat right through him. “If you’re sure,” she said softly. She hadn’t buttoned her coat, and with her hands fiddling in her hair, it fell open enough to remind him—hot, wet female.

No bra.

And, he could only figure, no panties. Though why he even went there, he had no idea.

“Shayne?”

He had to clear his throat and forced himself to look away. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for the ride.”

Distance. Keep it. Repeating the words like a mantra to himself, he turned off the engine.

“What are you doing?”

“Going up to check out your place.”

“That’s not necessary.”

Arching a brow, he turned to face her. “Did you call the police, then?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Truth?”

“Please.”

“I think…” Embarrassment crossed her face. “I think I probably just imagined everything.”